


devil's resting place

by fugues



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Demonic Possession, F/M, Fem!Thomas, M/M, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fugues/pseuds/fugues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>You’re going to collect Numbers for your brother,</i> He’d whispered, <i>And in exchange for the ability to do so…</i></p>
<p>(A deal with the devil that's a touch more literal.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	devil's resting place

**Author's Note:**

> this was written as a birthday present for sofie! it's based on [the laura marling song](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/lauramarling/devilsrestingplace.html) by the same name, and that's where the lyrics at the end are from.
> 
> it also contains a ship with one side sexbent (which turns the ship from m/m to m/f in this instance), so fair warning.

_You’re going to collect Numbers for your brother,_ He’d whispered,  _And in exchange for the ability to do so…_  
  
Kaito had fought, the first time. Had screamed and screamed at the walls of his own mind and tried to move his body so much as an inch, and He’d only laughed, soft and amused, and held onto it tight.  
  
(for isn’t it His body after all?)  
  
(wouldn’t Kaito give up anything for Haruto, in the end?)  
  
(would he prefer to be powerless again as his darling brother fades away before him?)  
  
There had been no fighting after that.

***

It becomes more frequent. Night after night, His claws _–_  figurative, of course, because that wouldn’t be  _civilised_ (or some-such nonsense) _–_  digging into Kaito and working him about like a puppet. Pulling his strings and jerking him along, and all the while soft and warm around him within the confines of his mind.  
  
The feeling would be almost pleasant, perhaps, taken out of context.  
  
So He puppets him, again and again and again until Kaito barely even knows where one of them ends and the other begins. Until he’s shaken and cold and  _alone_ when He isn’t around in some capacity.  
  
( _of course you’d miss me_ , He says, in a voice that rings with laughter)  
  
(after all, isn’t He a part of Kaito now?)

***

Kaito meets her on one of his few free (lonely) nights. Feels the presence of Numbers and is drawn towards it even though He’s holed up in His office, caught up in something to do with Faker.  
  
(Kaito never asks, when it’s Faker)  
  
(those are the times He never tells, either, and Kaito wonders if contact with the man is as distasteful for Him as it is for Kaito)  
  
So Kaito heads alone to where he feels the aching pulse of the Numbers jarring against his senses, and he sees her. She fights like something wild, something untamed and untameable, and when she takes the Number she blows a kiss before she leaves.  
  
She leaves the holder unconscious, though, not a husk, and that…  
  
What must that be like, he wonders?  
  
And he knows that he should follow her, that he should at least wring information from her if nothing else. She has to be an enemy, after all.  
  
But there’s nothing he can do to take her Numbers alone, and though that runs both ways he finds himself exhausted, suddenly, and can’t quite bear the thought of a pointless duel like that.  
  
(another night, he tells himself)  
  
(He laughs; asks,  _were you afraid, Kaito?_ )  
  
(Kaito doesn’t have an answer to give Him, in the end)

***

When he sees her next, he doesn’t get to put off their duel any further. Because Haruto’s life is on the line, Haruto’s on the line and that was what got Kaito into this in the first place, wasn’t it? Haruto is what matters, Haruto is the whole  _reason_ that Kaito’s body and soul and everything in between no longer belong to him.  
  
So he fights. Kaito fights and rages and he fights for  _himself_ , not as Him, and then something snaps in him because  _he can’t win this, he can’t save Haruto_ , and Yuuma’s yelling at him but he can’t take it in, can’t  _think_  and **—**  
  
( _would you like some help, Kaito?_ )  
  
 **—** he’s never given himself up so quickly, so completely.  
  
And He’s a good actor, in the end. None of them sees the difference in Kaito, that it’s not him but  _Him_ , and He wields the dragon Haruto’s power produces easily enough even as its power floods Kaito’s body and leaves him shaken and burnt out in the depths of his mind.  
  
None of them sees Him, even as He sees  _them_ in ways that Kaito cannot alone. Even as He shows Kaito things that Kaito’s eyes alone are blind to.  
  
(like the way that the wild, untameable girl he’d thought her to be before is tied up in threads like one of her puppets, forced to dance to another’s tune)  
  
(the way that those threads sink in taut like piano wire and she  _bleeds_ , in some invisible way, and Kaito has felt His thread wound tight around his neck like a collar _–_  like a noose _–_  but he’s never seen someone bound so tightly)  
  
They see, too, the both of them, the protections on those two. How pointless it’ll be to attempt to take their Numbers or their souls.  
  
But He’s nothing if not an actor, after all, so He makes the attempt nonetheless and feigns surprise when it doesn’t work, and then sinks back to allow Kaito his distress over Haruto, his anger.  
  
(his fear)  
  
Once Haruto is returned **—**  
  
(by him,  _him_ , and Kaito has never before  _wanted_ Him to take a soul but this is one that he thinks he’d give gladly in revenge for this because Kaito had _trusted_ him)  
  
 **—** He resumes puppeting Kaito, moves his numb body through the motions to return the both of them to the tower.  
  
( _thank you_ , Kaito thinks, and it’s the first time he’s ever thanked Him for anything)

***

Things return to… normal, after that, and Kaito wonders when exactly this became normal. When he started to welcome giving himself over.  
  
(when it started to be the best escape from the pain, perhaps)  
  
“Are you intending to tell Faker?” He asks Kaito once, in one of their increasingly rare meetings in the flesh. Gestures to the way Kaito is sunk into a chair in the corner of His office; to the slightly ragged tone of his breathing and the pallor of his skin.  
  
Kaito doesn’t answer. What is there to say, after all?  
  
(of course he won’t tell Faker)  
  
(he’ll run himself into the ground first, he’ll give his life in exchange for Haruto’s before he’ll ever admit to this weakness)  
  
Jerking his head up sharply, he meets His eyes without warning _–_  always a bad move, always dizzying and heart-stopping when you can see them for how they really look, but  _Haruto is on the line_   _–_ and says, hoarse, “You’ll take care of him. You won’t do anything that **—** you’ll look after him. Like  _I_  would, not like  _you_ would.”  
  
There’s a pause, then, an eyebrow raised above those eyes. And then, softly,  _of course_ , and Kaito feels the truth of it tingle in the piano-wire binding around his neck.  
  
(deals like theirs can go both ways, and for the first time in a long time Kaito can breathe easy)  
  
(figuratively, at least, but for once even the stutter of his heart in his chest isn’t quite so terrifying)

***

They find her again, one night on their search for Numbers, and as pointless as they all know it is she goes in for a duel. She doesn’t exactly seem surprised when He snaps the duel anchor away without so much as batting an eye, only frowning at them and asking, “What  _are_ you?”  
  
(and Kaito knows the score, the act; Kaito knows the flash of teeth, the glimpse of His eyes, and he doesn’t even resist when He pushes him down and out of focus)  
  
(later he’ll come to with aching muscles and burning scratches across his skin and that marionette of a girl asleep beside him in a hotel room bed, and he’ll leave without ever waking her)  
  
( _how ungentlemanly_ , He’ll chastise, and Kaito will only snort to himself and not bother with an answer)  
  
(he won’t be jealous)

***

Kaito feels it, of course; feels the absence like a stinging emptiness in his heart.  
  
(a weight and a pressure lifted from around his throat, and breathing comes more easily but it’s like there’s too much air in his lungs now until he’s lightheaded from the absence as he’d once been from the choking weight of the binding)  
  
Even though he knows, he still has to ask. When all is said and done, when they stand free of the wreckage, he asks after Him in a voice that cracks with exhaustion and pain _–_  how much of that pain was He masking, really? _–_  and though he’d known the answer that was coming, it’s still **—**  
  
(he is cold, and alone in his own mind and body, and his soul is his own)  
  
(what’s a boy like him to do with a soul, in the end?)  
  
(what’s the point of it all?)

***

There’s a duel against Yuuma, one that he barely remembers.  
  
(he’s empty, he’s alone)  
  
 _Anytime you like_ , he tells Yuuma, and perhaps it’s a lie. Perhaps it’s only acting, as the rest has been. Perhaps this will be the last time possible, because Kaito is cold and tired and he aches in the emptiness.  
  
(or perhaps **—** )  
  
(can you really kill the devil?)

***

It takes him a month. A month of the emptiness, of the pain, of pretending to a much more aware Haruto that he’s just fine.  
  
And then he sits there, on his knees in a room that stinks of blood and incense and candle-smoke, that makes his stomach churn and his eyes sting and burn, and he’s **—**  
  
(gloved hands draw him up until his face is pressed against a pristine suit and the only thing he can smell is the faint whiff of coal-fire, and a thread winds around his throat again and grays his vision out at the edges until all he can focus on is that pressure rather than the ache of before)  
  
 **—** happy.

**Author's Note:**

> _come up here to speak to me and hold your face to mine_   
> _any man can hold my gaze has done his job just fine_   
> _you just sold your life away to be with me tonight_   
> _hold your head against my chest, i think you'll be just fine_


End file.
